


Random Drabbles

by Believe_in_the_Journey (orphan_account)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alfred tries to be brave but is really a freaking coward, Baby Peter, Christmas Human AU, College AU, Even though set in November, Festivities, Halloween Human AU even though I wrote it a week before December started, Haunted House, Heracles loves him anyway, Heracles still loves him anyway, Kiku's probably the bravest to be honest, M/M, Mentioned DenNor, Poor kid isnt recognized as a country or a character, Punk!Arthur, Sadiq is a brat, Sadiq wastes money, Sealand didn't come up under a character tag, Tino is an old lady at heart with the mouth of a sailor, Tino is such a Christmas geek, but it has France in it and Turkey so is that last tag even necessary?, like if you squint they could be a couple, mild language used in last chapter, slightly suggestive comments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 04:07:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5482709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Believe_in_the_Journey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a birthday gift that's like two weeks late. Sorry friend, you know who you are.<br/>I had no idea what to call this honestly.<br/>Please don't take these chapters very seriously. The last one was written at one thirty in the morning and absolutely no research went into any of this. Apologies if any of them are slightly or majorly OOC.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ameripan

“Hey, don’t worry this is going to be so awesome, kiddo!” Alfred grinned, crouching down to look his trembling daughter in the eyes. The little girl reached her hand up to grab for her father’s, her eyes wide and focused on the creepy witch that was taking tickets at the front of the line and cackled wickedly every so often.   
“Daddy, I’m scared.” she whispered, her free hand going up to her mouth, going back to her old habit of sucking her thumb when frightened.   
“I know, honey.” Alfred said, forcing himself to be brave, for her sake. “Would it help if I carried you? I promise I won’t let any horrible monsters hurt you. Daddy will protect you.”   
The girl hesitated, glancing up at her other father, the one whose hand she was holding tightly. “You promise?”   
“I promise.” Alfred repeated emphatically, pulling her up into his arms when she reached out to him.   
He stood up straight again, holding his daughter protectively in his embrace, taking strength from his husband’s presence at his side. Kiku leaned against him, going on tiptoe to kiss his cheek reassuringly. The smaller Japanese man ruffled his daughter’s hair-sprayed hair carefully, making sure to not ruin an hour of preparation for her costume.   
“Everything will be just fine, sweetheart.” Kiku said, and Alfred was not sure if the words were more for him or their child. “Do you see that witch at the front of the line?”  
Their daughter squirmed in Alfred’s arms, checking to be sure the lady in question was still in the same place. She nodded, her green eyes growing even wider with terror.   
“She’s just a regular person in a costume, just like you are. She’s just acting scary. All these people we’ll see are just volunteers. They won’t hurt us.” Kiku explained.  
The girl wrapped her tiny arms around her father’s neck, clinging tightly to him as they stepped forward to hand the witch their tickets. Alfred hesitated for a moment, turning to his husband. “Are you sure this won’t be too scary for her? What if this gives Caitlyn nightmares?”  
Kiku searched Alfred’s eyes, smiling comfortingly because he looked petrified. “Caitlyn, do you still want to go inside?”   
The little girl nodded confidently, even daring to meet the witch’s eyes and wave timidly at her.  
“That’s my brave little girl.” Alfred complimented his daughter bravely, steeling his nerves as he handed the witch his ticket.   
Kiku rested a hand on Alfred’s arm as they entered the haunted house. It was lit by black lights and people waited in mildly scary costumes. The first room contained four people with faces painted chalk white, creamy robes glowing brightly due to the lighting. They all unanimously shouted to be saved from the horrific fates they had met deeper inside the house. Alfred gulped, holding his daughter all the closer and plunging deeper inside at Kiku’s lead. Melodramatic screams and wails echoed from the darkness of the place.  
The rest of the house was only just worse than the beginning, having been created for younger children. It was almost comedic, in Kiku’s opinion, but he made sure to keep his laughter to himself, focusing on keeping Alfred calm and Caitlyn from being too scared.  
When they finally exited, Alfred let out a relieved sigh and relaxed. “See, that wasn’t so bad.”  
Kiku fought a smile and moved his hand from Alfred’s arm to the back of his daughter’s pink leotard. “Did you like it, Caitlyn?”  
Caitlyn’s small mouth curved into a frown, her eyebrows drawing together as she tried to decide. “It was… scary.”   
Alfred grinned and nodded. “We don’t ever have to do that again if you don’t want to, princess.”  
Caitlyn laid her head against his shoulder, yawning slightly. Alfred carried her out to the car, laying her in the back seat while Kiku started the car. Alfred joined him up front, the two of them conversing animatedly the entire drive.   
Caitlyn beat them inside and they found her curled up in their bed.   
“What are you doing, little munchkin?” Alfred asked endearingly, jumping onto the bed with her. “It’s time for bed.”  
Caitlyn looked up at him, her green eyes big and pleading. She crawled over to him and sat in front of him. “Please can I sleep here tonight?”  
Alfred looked over at Kiku, tilting his head and giving his husband his best begging face. “Please?”   
Kiku shook his head, “Only if you go get changed right now, okay?”   
Caitlyn’s face brightened and she jumped off the bed. Her little arms wrapped tightly around Kiku’s legs in a hug. “Thanks, Daddy!”


	2. TurkGre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dont. Even. Ask.

Sadiq had barely gotten through the doorway before he was attacked. A hot mouth pressed against his, arms slipping around his waist, tugging him close. Sadiq dropped his bag and wove one hand into the Greek’s hair and the other placed on the small of his back. Heracles backed him against the closed door, kissing him insistently.   
A chuckle broke the kiss, the Turk unable to fight the laughter. “So this is how we do it now?”   
Heracles opened his eyes, dark green glaring at him. “Do what?”  
“I should go shopping more often.” Sadiq responded with a smirk, receiving an irritated eye roll in return.  
Heracles stepped away and turned around, walking to the kitchen and ignoring Sadiq’s protests. The Greek man sat on the kitchen floor, playing with one of the many cats that had invaded Sadiq’s home at the time Heracles had. Sadiq had not won that argument, though the way he remembered it, he did. Heracles could be incredibly persuasive when he tried hard enough, which was very unfair, really.  
Sadiq picked up his groceries and carried them into the kitchen to be put away. However, none of them needed to be refrigerated so really, such tedious things could wait. He bent over to go through them, looking for something specific. When he turned around, he was proud to see that Heracles’ quickly dropped his eyes, trying to pretend he had not been staring. Sadiq smirked, holding his desired object against his chest and watched Heracles play with his cat for a moments before walking over. In one swift motion, Sadiq successfully managed to crush half the pomegranate in Heracles’ hair. Heracles blinked up at him, startled, red juice trickling down his forehead and dripping from his nose. “What the hell?”  
Sadiq just grinned down at him and tugged the unwilling man to his feet. He kissed him hard, enjoying the taste of pomegranate juice on Heracles’ mouth. Heracles stood there and allowed himself to be kissed without reciprocating and Sadiq knew it was the revenge he was getting for crushing a piece of fruit into the Greek’s hair.  
“Do you have some kind of fo-” Heracles’ started, pulling away to examine Sadiq’s face, but was cut off by the Turk’s very insistent mouth.  
Heracles kissed him back the third time around, even allowing for Sadiq to slip his tongue into Heracles’ mouth to explore. Sadiq wove his fingers into Heracles’ hair, sticky juice making the texture strange and new. Heracles’ hands stayed on Sadiq’s shoulders, much to the Turk’s displeasure.   
Sadiq was the first to pull away, his mouth puckered up in a pout as he crossed his arms to sulk properly. Heracles seemed to find this entertaining, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards into a small smile that he fought, trying to keep his expression that of someone very angry.   
“Did you suddenly just become helplessly attracted to my shoulders?” Sadiq demanded.  
“You wasted a pomegranate in my hair.” Heracles retorted, eyebrows raised.  
Sadiq shrugged. “Do you have a point?”   
“I could have eaten that!” Heracles said, running his fingers through his hair, his hand coming away wet and tinged a redish color.   
Sadiq grinned at his expression, at how comical he looked with pomegranate juice running down his face. “But it looks so much better on you.”   
Heracles huffed, crossing his arms as well. “You bought a pomegranate just to see how it looked in my hair?”  
“No, I bought a pomegranate to crush in your hair to irritate you.” Sadiq corrected, his grin morphing into a mischievous smirk.   
“You’re such a dick.” Heracles snapped angrily, turning to walk away.  
Sadiq grabbed his arm before he could, turning him back around, and collided mouth with Heracles’. Heracles kissed him back with a certain amount of venom, going so far as to bite Sadiq’s bottom lip. Sadiq moved away after several moments, panting for air.   
“I’m going to go take a shower and attempt to wash this some of this crap out of my hair.” Heracles informed him, catching his breath before Sadiq managed to, shooting Sadiq a death glare.   
Heracles exited the room and Sadiq grabbed a second item from one of the bags, walking after him.   
“You stained my shirt!” Heracles said, examining a pink stain on the front of his white cotton shirt.  
“It will wash out.” Sadiq said, shaking his head, taking a moment to appreciate Heracles’ nicely toned torso.   
“No, it won’t.” Heracles snapped and tossed the shirt at him. The cloth landed perfectly on Sadiq head, hanging in front of his eyes. Sadiq flung it off and held out a bottle of soap. “I bought this for you.”   
Heracles took it and read the label, rolling his eyes. “You’re so funny.” he snapped sarcastically.  
“I thought so.” Sadiq grinned proudly.  
“I wasn’t aware you were so into pomegranates.” Heracles added snarkily, with a pointed look over his shoulder as he set the pomegranate scented soap on the counter.   
Sadiq shrugged. “I wasn’t.”  
“Was?” Heracles asked, turning around with his hands on his hips.   
“Like I said. Pomegranates look better on you.” Sadiq said with a smirk, wrapping his arms around Heracles’ waist.  
“I swear if you have the other half of the pomegranate that you are about to smash against my back I’ll-” Heracles warned, interrupted for the second time by a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reminder that I did zero research and have never seen nor do I have absolutely any knowledge about pomegranates.


	3. FrUK

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't like how this turned out but... whatever. It's fine. I hate it how fast and choppy it reads to me... But it's fine.

Francis Bonnefoy should never ever be allowed to wear tights of any color or  type. And this was not just Arthur’s opinion. (It definitely was just his.) It was rather unfair when the man walked into class, hair pulled back in stupid little bun and legs adorned in tights, straight from a ballet class. Not that Arthur had memorized Francis’ schedule or anything. He just knew because the tights were a dead give away. Obviously. At any rate, the stupid piece of fabric was much too distracting and was becoming an incredible hinderance to Arthur’s grade. It was not much help that the Theatre History professor was more dull than any other of Arthur’s teachers.

Unfortunately, Francis was again wearing tights. Even worse, today he was not wearing a sweater over his skin-tight white shirt. Arthur forced himself to stare at his blank papers he would later write notes on and subconsciously began to tug on his lip ring. “Careful, mon ami. You’re going to pull it out if you keep it up.”

Arthur looked up, startled by the sound of Francis’ thick French accent, “Hm?”

Francis stared at Arthur’s mouth and Arthur went pink. Was he asking to kiss him? “What? Is there something on my face?” Arthur asked, trying to sound as though he did not care either way and was most certainly not thinking about kissing the Frenchman.

Francis laughed and shook his head. “Non!” He reached across his desk towards Arthur’s face. At that point Arthur was so confused as to what he was reaching for, but he blushed darker anyway.

Francis’ hand pulled Arthur’s away from his mouth. “You really should break that habit.” Francis said with a smirk.

“Oh.” Arthur said, mentally admonishing himself for sounding so pathetically disappointed.

“Is something wrong, mon ami?” Francis asked, tilting his head.

“Be quiet, frog.” Arthur said, relieved to be saved as the professor walked into the room.

* * *

Arthur slung his backpack over one of shoulders after the ring of the bell, his fingers already tugging on his lip ring. A hand wrapped around his and pulled his hand away. “That really is such a horrid habit.”

Arthur glared at him and yanked his hand out of Francis’ grip. “That’s really none of your business, frog.”

The Frenchman smirked and Arthur could feel himself flush when he began to stare at the man’s mouth. “It would be such a shame if you ruined your lip, mon cher.”

Arthur spluttered at this, unable to come up with a decent response with Francis in such a close proximity to him. The man seemed to find the whole situation hilarious.

“I wouldn’t say no if you wanted to put your mouth to good use before something tragic like that happened to it.” Francis continued, smirking all the more at how Arthur blushed.

“As if.” Arthur spat.

Francis’ face fell for an imperceptible second, so short, in fact, that Arthur thought he had imagined it, like he imagined many things. But then Francis turned away to leave suddenly and Arthur did something impulsive. Something terribly impulsive. He grabbed Francis’ wrist and tugged him back around.

Their lips met, in a bit of a painful collision, and Arthur’s piercing did not make the kiss very romantic. Francis pulled away only for a moment to readjust their positions, and kissed him again, softer and much more gentle. It did not last very long, however, as the Frenchman’s mouth could not contain his laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Arthur demanded.

“As if?” Francis questioned between peals of laughter.

 


	4. SuFin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas in November. The best time of the year. Boxes should always be clearly labelled. This is the only summary you guys are getting. Just read. Also comment. Comments are great.

Tino hummed a little as he readjusted the branches of the tree to nestle the lightbulb just right. He stepped back several paces to admire his handiwork with a tilted head and proud grin. But then his face fell. The tree looked so bare with just the lights. He really wished they could have found the ornaments. But there were still a lot of boxes that needed going through and it was already very late November. Tino was frankly appalled he had waited so long to start decorating. But the move had pushed everyone’s usual schedules backwards just a bit.   
A Christmas carol lodged itself in his brain and forced him to sing the lyrics aloud as he searched for something to adorn the tree with. The real shame was that they had so little money to buy gifts with, let alone ornaments and other festive decorations. The many yards of lights would simply have to do.  
A loud cry reminded him that he was meant to have stayed quiet whilst decorating. He pulled himself from his task to check on Peter and perhaps even lull the baby back to sleep. The infant was sitting up, face red from his furious sobbing at being awoken so early. Tino lifted his son into his arms and began to sway, humming Silent Night as softly as he could. Peter quieted and soon began to relax against him.   
The baby fell asleep before he finished and Tino very carefully laid him back in his crib. He walked back out, still humming the song as a reminder. Bright, twinkling lights greeted him from the living room and he feared the sheer quantity of little bulbs would blind anyone that dared enter their home. There was little he could do however. Christmas was his favorite holiday and come Hell or high water (or a lack of variety for decorations) Tino’s apartment would be just as festive as he could make it be.   
Finally finished with his work, the Fin relaxed on his couch and pulled out his knitting to continue, or perhaps even finish if he got lucky, his gift for his husband. Not two minutes later, and Tino so entirely absorbed in his knitting, did Berwald arrive home. A gentle kiss pressed to his forehead made Tino aware of this arrival and he jolted in surprise. Before he had the chance to welcome the Swedish man home, however, he realized his misfortune.   
“Shit!” he swore, throwing his knitting to the side.   
“What’s wrong?” asked Berwald, taken aback by Tino’s sudden anger.  
“The surprise is fucking ruined!” Tino exclaimed, crossing his arms, and a deep scowl settled on his face.   
“Jag är ledsen. I meant to call.” Berwald apologized, looking genuinely put out at having wrecked his husband’s efforts.  
Tino stood up, horrified at having upset him. “It’ll be fine, really. I’ll work on it after Christmas. I can just start something new.”   
“You don’t have to go to such trouble.” The Swede said, shaking his head.  
“It’s no trouble at all, really. It will be worth it to see your face in a few weeks.” Tino promised, going up on tiptoe in an attempt to kiss his nose. He failed miserably at this, only able to reach his chin.   
The failure seemed to amuse the taller man who proceeded to lift his husband up and give him a quick chaste kiss.   
“Did Peter sleep long?” Berwald asked, remembering their sleeping child in the next room.   
“My singing woke him up, but he fell right back asleep.” Tino said, biting his lip, mildly embarrassed.   
Berwald smiled just a little at how cute his little husband was, and fought the urge to give him another, much longer smooch.   
“It really is such a shame that his first Christmas will be all blinding lights, though. It’s a wonder he can sleep through all this brightness.” Tino added after a moment, taking a glance around his pathetic multicolored lights strewn around the room.  
“Speaking of…” Berwald said, trailing off for suspense.  
“Yes?” Tino asked, not sure what Berwald had been reminded of.   
“Here’s a little bit of your Christmas gift, just a tad early.” Berwald said, picking up one of the boxes that had been set on the fireplace.  
“You found the decorations?!” Tino said, joy flooding him.   
Berwald nodded and had to set down his load as Tino practically flung himself at him, nearly losing his adorable little Santa hat. “You’re the best husband in the world!”  
Berwald chuckled, a deep, wonderful sound that Tino adored even more than Christmas.  
“How about we get these on the tree and take down some of these lights?” Berwald asked.  
“Yes, please. In fact, we could loan the extra lights to Matthias. Last time I was over, Lukas was trying to talk him out of using Legos for all their decor. I would hate for them to not have even a little bit of festivity.” Tino suggested as he started on the lower half of the tree while Berwald handled the upper half (their usual system).   
“And after hot cocoa?” Berwald inquired.  
“You know me so well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked, please consider taking the time to comment or simply give a kudos. Thanks! If you don't like... well thank you for at least reading this far. Have a great day... or night if you read this at a late hour. If you did read this at a late hour, you should probably sleep.


End file.
